Thomas Perry - Runner

"How the hell do I prepare for that?"

"We've got a couple of things. You can't have a weapon on you, so weapons will already be on the premises for you. I've put two in the house and two outside. They're loaded and the safeties are off. If you need one, you pick it up and pull the trigger. You can do that, right?"

"Of course I can. Where are they?"

"One is under the hose reel."

"Hose reel?"

"You know. The thing attached to the house that you crank to reel in the hose. It's in the garden at the back of the house. You reach into the middle of the hose, grab it, and you're ready to fire."

"I hope you're not expecting me to be the one who shoots her."

Demming said, "I'm not expecting you to be the one who shoots her. I just want you to have a couple of options—ways to stay alive—if something goes wrong."

"Where did you hide the other guns?"

"One is in the pool house in the cabinet under the sink. If you have to run for cover, the pool house is a good place, and the gun will be there for you. Another is in the house, inside the coat closet by the front door. It's taped to the wall above the door. You reach up, pull it down, and fire. The last one is in the guest bathroom off the great room, taped behind the toilet tank."

Richard cupped his hands over his nose and mouth and took a few deep breaths into them.

"Is something wrong?" Demming asked. "Are you dizzy or something?"

"A little bit," Richard said. "I'll be okay in a minute." He would have liked to breathe into a paper bag and stave off an anxiety attack, but his hands seemed to be helping. He sat down on the white overstuffed chair beside him, then let his hands fall to his lap.

Demming said, "Don't freak out about this, Richard. We're going to handle every possibility. You and Claudia will be close to her, but Sybil and I will have you two covered from a distance. If trouble happens, you'll head in one direction and Claudia will head in the other. The woman will be standing by herself and one of us will kill her. What's wrong now?"

"The whole thing is just so unreal," said Richard. "I keep thinking, 'How the hell did I get from where I started all the way to this point?' I'm a real estate executive. All of this is like a bad dream."

"Forget that kind of thinking, because it will paralyze you. You're not going to have to do much, but you'll have to do something. I can't get you out of meeting her, because that was what you offered. If you don't show up, she'll know it's an ambush."

"It wasn't as though I wanted to offer her that. I had to do something right then, right at that moment, and I remembered this was what you and Claudia had been planning. She was on the phone getting ready to hang up, and I knew I had one chance."

Sybil Landreau's tall, skinny shape appeared in the hallway. "She's all set."

Demming said, "Let's see."

Sybil held out her right hand, and a woman stepped out of the guest room. She was pretty and small featured. Her eyes had been made up with shadow and eyeliner to make them seem bigger, and her tinted contact lenses made her irises blue. Her hair was shoulder length and chestnut colored, and it had a tendency to fall over one eye when she cocked her head. Her lipstick had been brushed on to imitate Christine's full lips. She walked with small steps, and she wore a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie.

"Oh, my God," said Demming. "You look exactly like Christine. Exactly."

"Think so?" said Claudia.

"Absolutely. You're right on the money. Don't you think so, Richard?" Demming's forced smile begged for the right answer.

"Perfect," Richard said. He smiled, too. "I mean you were perfect before as yourself, Claudia, but this ... This is something."

Sybil and Claudia went back into the guest room and closed the door.

"She doesn't look like Christine," Richard said. "She's short, but she's not the same body type as Christine. What are we doing? Why say she does, if she doesn't? She's ten years older, and Christine gained thirty-five pounds in the pregnancy, at least."

"She'll be wearing padding, and that'll make her look fat," said Demming. "The wig is a perfect match for Christine's hair. She's the same height as Christine, and with the makeup, she's fine. You've got to remember it will be midnight, and there will only be a sliver of moon tonight. Once she's out of the house it will be like walking around in the bottom of a well. If the woman gets close enough to see the difference, Claudia will be close enough to shoot her."

"Jesus, Steve. I don't know about this. I don't think we should make her think she'll fool anybody. It could make her take chances."

Demming put his arm around Richard's shoulder. "We don't have a choice. You're the one who talked to this woman, and we're locked into giving her a Christine. Claudia is our only possible Christine. All we can do is make her feel confident and back her up."

Sybil Landreau reappeared and stood a few feet off, waiting. When Demming saw her he nodded. "Now we've got some more things to do before dark. We'll see you later." He and Sybil went outside, and in a moment Richard heard Demming's car accelerating onto the coast road.

Richard sat on one of the living room couches, leaning back with his face toward the ceiling and his eyes closed. He didn't want to succumb to the fear, the shortness of breath, the throbbing in his head that made him feel sick. He knew that he needed to rest now, before the long night.

He heard something quiet, a swish, a rustle, and smelled perfume a half-second before he felt the lips against his. He opened his eyes just as Claudia's face pulled back a few inches. Her hair was blond again, and her eyes were brown.

"A sweet kiss, but a little short," she said.

"Are you making a fool of me?" he asked.

"No. You'll have to do that yourself." She lowered her head again and kissed him deeply, lingering there and letting her tongue tickle his lips and then slip into his mouth. They kissed for a minute or two. He put his arms around her and noticed that she had changed her clothes, too. She was wearing a light sundress held up by two thin straps. He moved his hand along her spine and verified that there was nothing under the dress. She tugged it back down and sat up, then looked out the large back windows at the ocean and squinted. "It's so bright. Come to the bedroom."

He got up and followed Claudia into the hallway. When she turned toward the guest bedroom where she had changed, he gently placed his hands on her hips and steered her into the master suite. He turned around to close the door and lock it.

When he turned back, she was kneeling on the bed, pulling the dress off over her head. She met his eyes. "Sex calms the nerves. I knew I could get you to help me out, Richard. You're such a whore."

34

Jane stood in Sharon's kitchen and fought the impulse to call Carey. After a few seconds she defeated the urge. If she told him she was calling because she might not be alive in a few hours, what would that accomplish? If she wasn't up to dying without tormenting him, then she had become a different person in five years. The only way to increase her chances of survival was to concentrate on what she had to do.

She went into the bedroom and laid out her black clothes and her running shoes, then went back to the kitchen table, checked the pair of Beretta M92 pistols, and loaded the two fourteen-round magazines. She took a shower, scrubbed in the bathtub, and then showered again to be sure she had washed off any trace of makeup, shampoo, or deodorant. She was going to be moving in the dark tonight, and she wasn't going to let a scent betray her.

Dressed in her black clothes, she returned to the kitchen for the small backpack and packed the kit she had devised for the evening. She had a spool of fifty-pound test monofilament fishing line, her razor-sharp folding knife, and the small plastic container of grease paint. She had bought a cell phone under the name Helen DeLong, and that was the one she placed in her kit. She had bought a battery-operated baby monitor and receiver and two thick chains with heavy padlocks.